Ten Words
by Lemon Zinger
Summary: Given ten words, write a story that includes them all. This is the result. No real rhyme or reason, just a bit of exercise.
1. Chapter 1

Challenge: Given ten words, write a story that uses them all.

10 words: Strive, Discretion, Blush, Subtle, Didactic, Cuff, Foolish, Incandescent, Echo and Jade

* * *

I looked back at my companion and tried not to chide his foolishness. He wasn't the most incandescent of men, but he was trying.

"No, Watson, because the victim was left handed, remember?" I asked, striving to keep my tone gentle.

Obviously I had not had good discretion. He glared daggers at me. "Must you always be so bloody didactic?" He hissed. He was clearly jaded at his lack of progress.

"Watson I – "

"I suggest you give it a rest before I cuff your ears." He growled, no longer subtle in displaying his anger.

I realized then that I had crossed a far more dangerous line than I had intended. Settling back into my seat I blushed as my own mind echoed what I was always telling him. 'You see, but you do not observe…"

* * *

A/N: just a bit of writing exercise for me. If you want me to send you a list of words to try, let me know :) Or, if you have a list for me, send it over!


	2. Chapter 2

Words: Steady, Boredom, Easy, Being, Decay, Lavish, Birthday, Honor, Debacle, Susurration

* * *

He groaned as he fought boredom. In the short months since his return, cases had not been many or very interesting. The steady stream of clientele usually held nothing of interest to his great faculties, and he didn't bother much with them. Besides being downright uninterested in the world, he had lost his companion sometimes in the haze of the morning. Sometime after the first prick of his needle, Watson had silently left the room.

Holmes knew Watson despised his habit, but it made things so much easier to bear when he could use the artificial stimulants to keep his mind from decaying.

He heard the front door receive a heavy bombardment of knocks and his ears perked. Perhaps a case had come for him to settle at last. He heard angry exchange and then feet pounded the staircase.

None other than Lestrade, who had such an angry expression that Holmes wondered if there was murderous intent, flung the sitting room door open.

"How dare you!" The man said, his voice shaking with rage.

Holmes was at a loss. "What is the matter Lestrade?"

"You are really something you know that?" Lestrade stomped over to where Holmes sat and the detective blocked.

"I'm not sure I follow you."

"You don't deserve friends."

"Have a brandy Lestrade." Holmes pointed to the decanter sitting on the stand.

Lestrade snorted. "You really don't know do you. Well that's fine, Holmes, because I won't waste my time trying to explain to your enlarged head what your mistake is and miss out on the party. You just stay here and lavish yourself with that syringe." He growled, turning to storm back out.

Holmes however, no longer had the need of the cocaine as he found himself left with a puzzle that confused him to no end. He had no idea what had come over the inspector, but it called for an investigation at least.

Heading out, he quickly followed Lestrade in a cab and found that he was just returning to Scotland Yard.

It made no sense. Holmes didn't know what to do from here, so he spent the day watching and waiting for the inspector.

The man left rather late with Watson in tow. Holmes' eyes narrowed. Was Lestrade merely upset that Holmes was defying Watson's wishes? It had never come up between them before.

Making to follow, he trailed them to Lestrade's house, which was rather dark and quite.

The moment Lestrade let Watson in though, there was a hearty cheer and the sound of celebration.  
It was then that Holmes realized what he had so thoughtlessly neglected. He winced as he remembered the date. Watson's first birthday since Holmes' return and he had forgotten. He grimaced in his anger towards himself.

Going a little ways up the road, Holmes headed into a shop and began to hunt. However, he could find nothing there that would seem to do the matter justice.

Alighting upon a better idea, Holmes swiftly returned home. After begging Mrs. Hudson to do the wrapping, he took off with the present in hand.

When he returned to the house, he found Lestrade blocking his path. "Took you this long did it?" He asked, his arms folded over his chest.

Holmes blushed in answer. He was not used to answering to anyone for his behavior other than Watson, but lately he'd found Lestrade would bully him for the slightest offense given to the doctor.

"Very well, I suppose I can't stop you." Lestrade said, stepping aside. "But tonight is honoring Watson. Meaning none of your theatrics." He growled.

Holmes nodded and made his way through the throng of people with some surprise. Watson didn't usually make a great fuss over his popularity, but the crowd of inspectors and constables from the yard made it clear that he had more than he had led Holmes to believe.

He finally found Watson enjoying a piece of cake as Mrs. Lestrade looked on. "Thank you, it's delicious!" He said with a smile.

He turned and noticed Holmes. His eyes widened in surprise, but then he smiled. "There you are." He greeted as if nothing was wrong.

"I'm so sorry." Holmes said, passing over the gift.

Watson took it and passed his cake to Holmes so he could unwrap it. The sight of the little morocco case brought tears to his eyes. "You… you really?"

Holmes nodded. "I'm through." He agreed with a nod.

Watson smiled and took back the cake. "It's the best gift ever." He said with a smile.

His attention was stolen by two other well-wishers, and Holmes turned to let Watson talk to the rest of his friends. He found himself facing Lestrade once again, but this time the inspector's eyes had softened. "Right, that was well done." He commended.

"Thank you inspector." Holmes said with a smile.

"Right, now will forgive my little debacle earlier?" Lestrade asked, putting out his hand.  
"Think nothing of it." Holmes said softly so the rest of the crowd couldn't hear the susurration.

Lestrade smiled. "Well, come, have a bite to eat." He said kindly, leading Holmes on.

Watson watched them walking off together with a bit of surprise, wondering what had just occurred betwixt them.

* * *

The words were rather more of a challenge this time, but I like the result. Not my favorite 'giving of the morroco case' story though. Seen much better ones out there.


	3. Chapter 3

10 words, courtesy of Mrs. P: Complicate, knitting, incongruous, pillow, flippant, steady, simple, home, reward, silence

* * *

I stared at the sitting room, not sure if I was imagining it or if Holmes really had reorganized it yet again. I looked at the complicated network of yarn that looked to be an unraveled piece of knitting that Mrs. Hudson had been working on as it wound it's way around the floor, tied onto various furniture legs. At the center of the complicated web sat a pillow on which the detective perched, studying his incongruous creation in steady silence.

"I dare say Mrs. Hudson is going to be rather furious when she sees that yarn Holmes." I warned him.

He held up a hand flippantly to forestall my lecture and I grinned as I rang the bell to call breakfast up. Seeing the impending confrontation would be delightful. Sometimes sharing a home with the world's worst tenant had its own simple rewards.

* * *

More challenges please!


	4. Chapter 4

Ten words courtesy of Mrs. P: Grandmother, shark, excitement , undone, cobbles, friendly, distracted, accidental, calm, open.

* * *

"It was clearly an accidental death." Lestrade argued, seeming calm even if Holmes was intent on keeping this case open.

I was mostly ignoring the excitement of the two detectives that sat across from each other, glaring in the midst of a typical debate. I was used to it by now, even if their excitement over their battle of wits distracted me from the article I was reading.

"Oh Lestrade you sound like you cobbled that explanation together in lieu of actually doing your work!" Holmes said with a laugh.

Lestrade glared at Holmes. "You are enough to bring my saintly grandmother to swearing Holmes." He growled.

I laughed at the pair of them, though I didn't look over.

"Having to put up with your laziness Lestrade was her undoing." Holmes growled.

Their barbs were friendly, which was something of a relief to me. "You both are forgetting something." I called over, fixing them both with a smirk.

"And pray tell doctor, what is that?" Holmes asked as they gave me curious looks.

"I have to put up with both of you, and you are enough to dive me into a pool full of sharks to escape."


	5. Chapter 5

Ten words courtesy of Falconer54: Credit, battle, storm, wall, nightmare, coincidence, charged, weapons, time, panicked

* * *

When I was slammed against the wall behind me, I knew it was no coincidence that the man that had been in the midst of attacking me was quickly dispatched with the doctor's well-timed shot. The storm was making the fighting difficult as the rain pelted us even I the small alleyway.

I looked over to shoot my friend a smile, but he was already battling two others that had set on him. This ambush was proving to be a nightmare for us both and I felt panic welling up within me as I realized we were badly outnumbered.

I heard a whistle and looked over to see two constables and an inspector charging over with weapons drawn. I was glad to see our opponents making a hasty retreat, but I grabbed one to question before he could run off.

Watson looked to have gotten out without too many injuries and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well Mr. Holmes, it looks like you have to give our official force a little credit tonight." A very happy inspector said, sauntering over with a smirk plastered on his face. I didn't have a chance to respond though as I suddenly saw Watson sway and I ignored Lestrade to dive between Watson and the ground to break his fall.


	6. Chapter 6

Ten words courtesy of Book Girl Fan: Family, study, dress, ball, picture, sing, cross, black, read, new

* * *

Beneath the black headstone with the engraved cross lay his dreams. Under six feet of soil the start of his new family that he had always wanted and imagined lay dead. He had pictured tossing a ball in the park with his son. He had hoped for a girl that he could buy dresses for. He had wanted to hear Mary sing them to sleep. He had wanted to read them stories and play with them. He wanted to help his children study and watch them grow.

He wanted them back so badly that his chest was clenched in painful knots.


	7. Chapter 7

Ten words courtesy of SherlockedSherlockian: Affection, Wonder, Exterminated, Bowtie, Meretricious, Haphazard, Frockcoat, Handsome, Horse, Curtains

Added request: "Some fluffiness would be lovely, though not necessary  
:D" After that last update, I think some fluffiness would be very welcomed... Forgive me readers if I am wrong. Obviously if you would like some more angst or torment just send me some very dark prompts :)

Shouldn't have to say this, but this is **NOT** slash.

* * *

He looked over at me and I wondered if he would ever understand. I continued to fuss with the bowtie and frockcoat. He cleared his throat to get my attention.

"You look fine." He admonished, sounding bored as he glanced around the curtains inside the cab to watch London moving by outside. He had gotten us a very decent ride to the church.

"I just don't want to show up looking like a haphazard mess." I replied, a bit bitter.

"Really doctor, this whole affair seems meretricious."

I sighed, knowing I couldn't fault him for his lack of understanding. "I know it seems that way to you Holmes, but this is important to me. It's my wedding day."

To my surprise, he seemed to find the right words to response to the situation. "Well then doctor, you should know you look very handsome." He said affectionately.

I smiled at him, finally beginning to relax.

As the horse came to a halt in front of the church he continued to surprise me by adjusting his own attire before he would take his place in the ceremony. I had never expected him to accept the position, but as always, he was capable of surprises.


	8. Chapter 8

Ten words courtesy of eylandria13: Aberrance, Fastidious, Esurience, Disgraceful, Entreat, Dulcet, Contentious, Dolce, Light, Composed

* * *

He rarely recorded the music he composed in his black moods. His aberrance from the typical pieces was not a surprise, but the fastidious manner that he played kept me intrigued. His face was a mask of concentration as the bow in his hands lovingly ran over the strings of the violin. It was disgraceful to his skills that the notes sounding had a distasteful contrast, but somehow it helped him.

I would not entreat him to stop. Neither in the mood to be contentious or esurient, I merely let him flow with the music he was enveloped in when suddenly he stopped as if coming out of a trance.

He eyed me shamefacedly. "A thousand apologies my dear Watson." He offered. "And now an interlude."

With that, he again began to play, but the light and dolce tune was pleasing and drew a smile from me.

"Thank you Holmes." I said, but he ignored me as he turned to the window, offering his dulcet song to the evening thoroughfare.


	9. Chapter 9

Ten words courtesy of Mrs. Pencil: Pitchfork, letter, subdued, talented, cake, musical, undulating, missed, perk, piano,

* * *

Holmes had won out. We were not very pleased about it. For me to put my life on the line to help with his investigations was one thing, but for him to enlist Mrs. Hudson in this charade was another matter entirely. I had sworn to him that if some ill befell her because of this, I would take a pitchfork to his violin (which had often been a temptation over the years).

For my initial worry, she was performing to the letter, keeping the mask of a subdued housewife while I presented myself as her husband. We had always been good friends (and very often allies when it came to either helping or deterring Holmes), but I feared this would put an awkward strain on our friendship.

As we continued to play guests to the couple newly arrived from America, we began discussing hobbies.

"I was a rugby player before my injuries." I offered, looking over to let Mrs. Hudson speak for herself. I honestly didn't know many of her hobbies besides housekeeping for Holmes and I.

"Well, I used to play a bit." Mrs. Hudson said, blushing. I perked up a bit at this new information.

"Is that so Margaret? You must play for us!" Rebecca insisted, gesturing to the piano in one corner.

She shook her head and I noticed her about to protest, but I cut in.

I was immediately curious. "Yes Maggie, please do." I said, using then nickname with affection.

She shot me a glare and for a moment I wondered how deeply offended she was by my joining sides against her. I had probably just lost the chance that she would bake a cake for me on my birthday.

She rose and I watched as she walked back towards the instrument and sat down. Her fingers flicked over the keys a few times, getting oriented to the chords and feel before she launched into a lively melody. Her musical talent astonished me and I found myself held enraptured by her undulating fingers as they moved along the notes of a familiar song.

Trying to school my expression as she finished, I launched into an applause that the rest of the audience joined into. She blushed and curtsied a bit before retaking her seat beside me.

"That was beautiful darling!" I praised.

"Indeed, you are very modest in your talents." Rebecca's husband commented.

As we took our leave for the night, I continued to comment on her performance.  
"Oh it was nothing. I have missed having an instrument of my own though." She said with a small smile. Not knowing what else to say, we lapsed into silence.

Although I was already beginning to think about how I planned to make Holmes pay her for her assistance.

* * *

A/N: While I have heard some present arguments for a pairing of these two characters, I myself have never really given it much thought. Not written to hint at a future relationship either, but if you want to read it like that, that's fine. I am still making up my mind on the matter. If nothing else, its a cute little bit of fluff.


	10. Chapter 10

10 words courtesy of peaceandlove: Kiss, screwdriver, Mycroft, charge, smiled, blue, carpet, pipe, smoke

However, there is one word missing! I don't really know what you wanted, so if you would like to reply again, you can add another word and I'll wiggle it in. :/ hope this suffices. Thank you so much for your compliment too!

* * *

Mycroft shifted uneasily as the smoke wafted up from his pipe. The man speaking seemed to be aware of several factors that he wasn't saying and Mycroft glanced sideways at his brother, who seemed to have the same opinion.

"You say you left out the screwdriver on the table after your work?" Sherlock asked again.

The man nodded, looking quite pale. Of course, anyone charged with the murder of his wife would be. The blue eyes looking back at them nodded, filled with tears. "And someone used it to murder her!" He answered before looking down at the carpet to try to compose himself. "I just wish Jacques had been around."

"Jacques?" Sherlock repeated with a curious expression.

The man gave a shrill whistle and the next thing Mycroft was aware of was a massive white and brown animal kissing his face with a large tongue.

"Down Jacques!" The man called, trying to restrain the animal.

Finally, the Saint Bernard was called down and Mycroft rose to try to wipe away the layer of fur that had been left on his suit. He looked over at Sherlock, who was smiling and making no attempt to muffle his laughter at the situation.

"Hush." Mycroft hissed.

"Oh dear brother mine, I would say you made a friend!" Sherlock replied, continuing to chuckle.


	11. Chapter 11

From Mrs. Pencil: Celebration, perseverance, opportunity, hope, moonlight, unexpected, enhanced, painful, bucket, lesson

From Chaingirl: Duck, watch, friend, chuckle, sewing, chocolate, violinist. rocking, charm, book.

From: ImXDragon: Peace, tears, bow, bloated, siege, acid, snore, gentle, opaque, ribbon

Okay, so I was staring at Mrs. Pencil's for a few days and then I got the last two today. Looking at them all, I was inspired. Hope none of you mind I combined the three.

* * *

Mrs. Hudson paused on the steps at unexpected wave of dizziness that hit as she ascended the stairs. She held on the railing as the roomed rocked and swayed for a moment before it cleared. Clutching the tray with determination she continued on her way. She listened at the door at the sounds of her two lodgers bickering inside.

"Holmes one of these days I won't be around to patch you up after you blow something up or spill acid on you."

Mrs. Hudson entered the room, chuckled at the sight of the two friends, and then set down their lunch. Holmes was letting Watson clean some burns on his fingers and he twitched with pain occasionally. Behind him, his chemistry set was steaming and there was a bucket by the table with opaque slime inside. She felt her stomach churn at the sight and decided it was better not to ask.

"You certainly didn't take the opportunity to tell me that the teapot was hot." Holmes growled.

Watson sighed. "They typically are, Holmes." He said dryly. "Maybe you won't forget the lesson now that it's painful?"

Mrs. Hudson turned to leave, but what felt like a moment later, she was laying in Watson's arms as he held a hand to her brow. "You should be in bed." He growled, looking worried.

"I – I'm fine…" Mrs. Hudson protested.

"You fainted dear lady, you should do as Watson advises." Holmes said, kneeling slightly behind Watson.

"You are not going to get better running around taking care of us." Watson said. "I'm putting you on bedrest."

"But what about you two?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"I can get someone to help us out." Watson said.

"And what will I do with myself all day?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

Holmes shrugged. "Surely you have a book or some sewing?" He asked.

Watson gently lifted her and gave Holmes a look, and he nodded his approval, already knowing what the doctor was thinking. Watson carried her to Holmes' room and gently set her in bed, ignoring her feeble protests.

Holmes followed a moment later and brought in his violin and bow. Beginning to play something soft and sweet, he lulled Mrs. Hudson into an uneasy sleep as Watson began tending to her. He undid the ribbon around her neck, bearing a charm she was rarely without. He set it on the bedside table, wanting to avoid her choking or having any difficulty breathing. The violinist put down his instrument and came behind Watson, watching as his friend began to see to his patient.

"How serious is it?" Holmes asked.

"I hope this fever will diminish soon, but it looks like it might lay siege to her for a few days." Watson said. "Would you bring me a bit of brandy?"

"Intending to stay up then?" Holmes asked knowingly.

"Indeed I do." Watson replied. "You can take my bed if you need to."

Holmes waved off the offer. Watson noticed something in those calculating gray eyes he had only seen a few times before. Something in the way that Holmes looked at Mrs. Hudson reminded Watson of the times he had woken ill or injured and Holmes was at his bedside.

In their thirteen years of lodging together, excluding Holmes' hiatus, Mrs. Hudson had tolerated a good deal. She had treated them fairly, always putting up with their antics and rarely showing her anger or tears. Watson knew Holmes, in his own private way, cared for her. He had seen the one unfortunate client that had spoken unkindly towards her after Holmes was through with him, and knew that if the man had done more than verbally assault her, he would've been in need of a doctor. She had persevered through the worst messes and cases. She kept the peace between them by stepping in when necessary and celebrated with them when they were happy.

Day turned to night and the moonlight streamed in through the window as Watson began battling a rising fever. His face was the picture of concentration while he bathed her brow and gave her even doses of medication.

By the next morning, he was worn out and Holmes gently ushered him to the settee and forced him to rest. Assuming the role of nurse for himself while Watson softly snored in the other room, Holmes continued the pattern of care that Watson had started. Living with the doctor for so long had enhanced his own medical abilities.

He was concerned for his landlady for more reasons than simply the housekeeping she did. Holmes had increased his payments as he was able to try to offer her something in return, but she usually refused the bloated payments. He remembered her last birthday and the box of chocolates that he'd gotten her with a wince. This Christmas he intended to make up for his inadequate response to her goodness. Rather than trying to duck from the task of coming up with a gift he would hunt down the perfect one.

Watson woke in the middle of the afternoon and sent Homes scurrying to bed. Holmes had protested, but Watson had merely argued he didn't need another patient to tend. Returning to Mrs. Hudson side, he was pleased to find her awake and smiling. "Well, how much of a mess have the two of you made?" She asked with her eyes twinkling.

"Shouldn't take you more than a week to sort through it." He replied teasingly. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better doctor, thank you." Mrs. Hudson said.

"Holmes helped too, but I don't think he'd appreciate you drawing attention to the fact." Watson told her. "I forced him to sleep for a bit."

Mrs. Hudson smiled. "Good, let him rest."

"You should do the same, your body still needs to recover." Watson told her.

She obeyed without a fight – which verified his statement – her mind thoroughly changed. She might not always have the easiest time of it, but she had the best tenants in London.

* * *

ImXDragon told me she would make a go at a challenge that I gave her, so here is a general challenge to anyone who would like to take a go at it - please let me know if you respond!

Hour, unconditional, meander, green, abscond, moist, credential, chaos, being, power

Best of luck. As always, more challenges for me are welcomed!


End file.
